Bad Things Happen
by valmarieliz
Summary: District 9 hasn't had a victor in about thirty years. And when Emmer Buckweath gets reaped she thinks it's a death sentence, but it could be much worse than that.
1. Chapter 1

Some people think that reaping day is the worst day of a child's life or if their called the first day of the hunger games but for me it was my last day in there.

Reaping day in district 9 is just as sad as any district. Children snatched from their families like a ritualistic killings. And lately the reapings seem to be targeting the smallest and weakest as if the Capitol is trying to send a message. We haven't had a victor in almost 30 years and the three that are alive are no spring chickens. But here I sat on the train ride to the Capitol trying not to remember the hours before this.

It was a beautiful summer day, offsetting the morbid event occurring at precisely 10 am. My mom had picked out a forest green dress and a tan dress for my sister and me to wear. Like I cared what I wore, either I was just going to have a typical Sunday after this or I was going into the hunger games, neither scenario called for a pretty dress, maybe a noose but those are usually frowned upon.

My sister went with the green dress and begged me to put her hair in braids, I did of course, feeling a little sentimental. She had survived her first reaping but lately district 9s tributes had been on the younger side. Almost a reminder that we were never safe, like we needed another one.

I don't think I even brushed my hair before heading out to the reaping. My mom obviously took this as a personal offense, but didn't yell too much since we could be gone for good in a couple of hours.

I hugged my sister as she joined the thirteen year old girls and I went to join the seventeen year olds. I had completely zoned out until our escort, Athena, who I'm not entirely convinced is a girl underneath that makeup, announced that it was time for the main event.

"Let's start with the boys," Athena walked over to the bowl that held a merger thousand names. Almost no one dared to take tesserae, afraid of increasing their chances. "Blaze Feeder!"

My heart went through my stomach. I knew him, well mostly his brother, but still. He was twelve years old, basically no chances in hell in winning. I watched as possibly the smallest child in district 9 made his way up to the stage.

Athena didn't even spare him a glance, knowing he wasn't going to bring her any glory. She went to the girls bowl, "Emmer Buckwheat."

Me. I was going to the hunger games. I did the only thing I could think off. I pumped my fist and yelled out "Yes!"


	2. Chapter 2

Waiting in our justice building was painful. The last time I was gunna see my home and I was locked in doors. I wanted to lay in the grass one last time with the sun shining above me. But here I was in an overly extravagant room made for children saying goodbye to their loved ones before they are shipped off to die. This is how I'd want to start my last week alive, obviously. My mom and sister came and cried. My sister said she'd learn how to braid her own hair and that if I came back she'd do all my chores. I told her not to make promises that she couldn't keep. My mom told me to do whatever it takes and that if I die I had to at least die fighting. It was nice.

At least I got to see them one last time. I didn't expect many people to come in. Most people didn't get my sarcasm and thought it was sheer rudeness on my part. But I still had some friends that did care. They cried and said goodbye though you could tell they were happy they weren't me.

As they left I knew I was about to be escorted out but I had one completely unexpected visitor left, Seb Feeder. The brother of the boy who was being sent to die with me. I worked for his family's farm whenever I wasn't working in the fields picking wheat for the capitol. His family were the owners the farm that supplied fruit and vegetables to our district. Their farm was rather large and they were almost as important as the mayor in our district. I was also a little bit head over heels in love with him. He had gotten me the job working on his farm, he was kind of my savior, not that he'd want me.

Seb was pretty attractive, I'm not going to lie, but his chocolate brown eyes were so sad. He just kind of stood there, right in front of the door. Not moving, not speaking.

"I've kind of made some promises to stay alive, but I'll try my best to watch over your brother. I mean District 9 needs a victor right?" I tried to smile, but I had been crying previously, so it was hard.

Seb let out a humorless laugh "My parents would hate to find another person to work on the farm," He then sighed deeply before coming towards me and hugging me, so please come home or help my brother. Any way this works out is going to hurt me, but if you came back it would hurt a lot less." He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

I looked up at him completely confused and shocked. "Wanting me back, means losing your brother, how can you want that?"

"I don't, but..." he sighed and ran his hand through this his rather beautiful blond hair. "There's so much I never got to tell you and so much I want to. I had this great way planned to ask you out and then you had to screw it up and get reaped. Just do something for me while you're in there, Em, fight like hell for yourself or for Blaze, just fight."

"Um," but I didn't really get to put in a word or confess my undying love for him because he left almost as quickly as he came.

I'm numb for the rest of my time in the justice building and my car ride to the train that will take me to the Capitol, but once I step into that train, I know that it's time for me to fight.

No matter what happens I know I'm going down fighting.


	3. Chapter 3

Being waxed and scrubbed down from head to toe, though I've never done so before isn't as bad as I would have thought. The stylists are like birds fluttering around me asking all kinds of questions about the district and my life there. I answer every question as accurately and as detailed as possible. "All of you are so wonderful," I sound sickening. "Thank you so very much for cleaning me up to make me presentable for the opening ceremony, without you I would be doomed."

They seem genuinely touched by my comments, and I'm not sure if I meant what I said, but they are so happy the lady with the purple skin and head tattoos touches my arm gently and says, " I really hope you make it to the final eight at least, your district deserves hope," then she takes me to the head stylist, some other Capitol idiot and she shoves me in an all too tight bodysuit that looks like grain. Wow, how original. At least my face looks pretty.

"Um, excuse me, ma'am," the stylist turns to look at me, "What am I supposed to be exactly?"

"Oh, my simple child, you're not finished yet! But we're hoping you look like the ancient greek goddess of the harvest, Demeter. I don't think you would've been taught about that history, but the citizens of the capitol will know," she smiles and tosses her pink hair over her shoulders.

"Wonderful," I beam, trying my best to maintain the perfect tribute facade. "I just knew I had been given an excellent team here. Thank you so very much ma'am."

I think she blushed, but with all the makeup it's hard to tell.

They continue to work on me and add flowers in my hair and putting a cape on me as well that's supposed to make me look like this goddess, but honestly it's ridiculous. I just hope potential sponsors like it. My mind wanders and I begin to wonder about the actual games and exactly how I plan on getting Blaze to win. It's pretty impossible to win if you're in the lower half of the reaping ages, but about four years back Finnick Odair did at fourteen, and the capitol adores him so i might be able to pull it off. I make a mental list of the things I can do that will help Blaze while I'm alive. I know how to forage and I can climb and I can make a fire. Also, based on today I'm a considerably good actress. I think we're going to have to work the art of deception if we'll have a chance of winning. I haven't talked to Blaze yet, but I think he'll be okay with teaming up with me.

I look utterly hideous but the end of my makeover, but I have no control over it, and I make my way to the stables to get ready for the opening ceremony. Blaze looks almost as dreadful as myself, but this ceremony is probably the least important part of the hunger games so I doubt we're in any trouble.

"Well that it some handy work there, what you supposed to be?" I try to joke with this kid, he's so small and i want him to go as far as he possibly can in the arena.

"Emmer?" He sounds hestiant and unsure.

"Why are you doing this? We don't have to talk or pretend that I have a chance in the arena. It's impossible for a twelve year old to win and you know it," he seems this he hasn't stopped crying since the moment his name was called. He's so small, too, smaller than you'd expect a kid to be when reaped.

"Listen to me, Blaze," he is unwilling to look me in the eye so I lean down and try to touch his shoulder, it's rather difficult with all the tassels and bread-like elements. "Hey, look at me, I don't know if either of us can win, but I'm going to do everything in my power to get you as far as you can in that arena, okay? It's you and me, B," I offer him the most sincere smile I can manage.

"Really?" He starts to look hopeful, so hopeful, I nod. I begin to realize I might be the greatest liar ever. What if I can protect him from anything in that arena? What if we're both dead minutes after the gong sounds?

"And Blaze?" His name is starting to leave a bad taste in my mouth.

"Yeah, Emmer?"

"Yes, I am going to do everything I can to get you home and you may not like it, but trust me in the end I think it will be worth it. And I need you to trust me." We step up on the chariot and take our places. Blaze doesn't reply, but I think he's too nervous to think about what I've said. But now I start to worry.

How far am I willingly to go to keep this kid alive?


	4. Chapter 4

Well, no one seemed to notice us at the opening ceremonies, which is expected, the opening ceremonies are just one of the many things catered towards the career districts, but I don't mind. Some Capitol citizens might have noticed me and think about betting for long odds or possibly take pity on Blaze in the arena since he's so small.

After the ceremony, we feast on rich food that ends up making me nauseous and watch a recap of the ceremony while Athena tries to reassure us that we were memorable, but honestly she/he really needs a wake up call. Then I think it's really time to talk with the mentors of district 9.

Our youngest victor is Greta Banner, Victor of the Fortieth Hunger Games, and let me just make this clear. She is insane, and not the kind of insane that you think the games made her, she's just plain old fashioned crazy. She is constantly biting her hair and talking aloud to the voices in her head that make her unbelievably paranoid and scream randomly, which I guess worked to her advantage in the arena. Her arena was an old world city. She was able to avoid all other tributes and almost every muttation until the final four tributes were left and she jumped down from the top of a building onto two opponents that were fighting each other to win the games. Of course, she is wildly unpopular in the capitol before and after the games. Not exactly the picture of the healthy victor they like to parade around the districts. I don't think they even had a victory tour that year because of the things I imagine she'd scream on live television. However, she does give me a couple of ideas.

Jem Thatcher tells me he is the oldest to ever win the games, turning nineteen the day he won. At 53, Jem is still attractive and he's still district nine favorite victor, the Capitol even likes him to this day and shows his games on television during the top twenty countdown to the games. He was amazing with a slingshot and was able to knockout his opponents and leave them like gifts for the Careers to kill and he was amazing at slipping in and out the shadows undetected. He tells me not to go too far into the cornucopia and to just grab what I won't be able to do without for the first couple of nights. He's alright and seems to have a few tips for us. He's the best with sponsors apparently, so I really need to get him to like Blaze, but just like before Blaze is quiet as ever, completely tuned out the rest of us.

And then there's Jane Tittle, winner of the sixteenth hunger games, won them at fifteen, and I honestly have no idea how because she just sleeps all the time. She slept the entire time we were on the train. She slept on the dinner table. And she is currently sleeping on the couch across from me next to Greta who won't stop yelling about how the pixies keep plucking her eyelashes and stealing her eyelash wishes.

"You know, you can learn a lot from old Janey over there," Jem says fondly, while he downs yet another glass of wine. "Sleep when you can, while you can. Cause trust me, kid, there won't be much time to sleep while you're in there."

"Of course, Jem," I laugh, but take those thoughts to heart. " So, what should be my angle going into training tomorrow?"

"Winning," he laughs. "Do you know how to fight or wrestle or any type hand to hand combat or sword fighting or archery?"

"Not really," for the first time I'm starting to feel unsure.

"Well what do you do back home? You have decent upper body strength for a female," Jem remarks while Greta screams out, "No you can have my fingernails!"

"I was a harvester in the eastern fields from summer to fall and a plower and planter in the vegetable field from late winter and spring," he motions for me to continue, knowing that there is more. "I didn't really go to school that often because I wanted to work more, so in the winter I worked at half-pay as an extra hand for the butcher. I didn't actually kill the animals, I just fed them."

"Well, do you know what all of this means?" Jem seems exceptionally pleased and leans forward.

"No what?" I'm just a tad uncomfortable by his obvious delight.

"You know how to use a scythe."


End file.
